User blog:CuteLunaMoon/A nightmare quest- chapter 1
Prologue It's been a while since I last wrote something. I didn't know how to continue my 2nd fanfiction so I decided to drop it. Now I got the ideas for this one. Hope you guys enjoy it. A nightmare quest Chapter 1 Dear unfortunate reader. I think I know you have seen what others couldn't and are already desperate as you choose to read this book. And the fact that you can read this book proves that you have seen things others couldn't. My books are not as frightening as the Necronomicon of the mad Arab, but several ones can drive readers insane as well. So the first question in your mind might be: are nightmares real? They are, to some extent. So what causes nightmare and why they tend to repeat? Only two things can cause repeated nightmares, my dear reader: ghosts and ... them. What we were taught in our youth and in science classes were lies. Our history, our technology are nothing compared to ... those old races. After all, we human is just a young species. Our brains would malfunction once we see them as their geometries are alien and all wrong to our mind. Some scholars suggested that human mind was far fragile than we had thought and that to bear such horrible knowledge would only drive us mad. And my apologies to you if you find this book hard to understand. I'm already unreasonable. My name is James Von Mauve. I'm a veteran and known to others as an odd archaeologist. Little do they know, my collection of Victorian and Medieval antiques isn't just mere curiosities but also served as a bulwark against... them. It was not comfortable for me to write this and it brought me, great terror, whenever I have to think about... those unfathomable cosmic horrors. At the time I wrote down this uncanny story, my health was deteriorating faster than I had anticipated. So do I know how to stop them? Short answer: yes. But well, you can't simply stop them with sheer brute force and trinkets of antiquity forever. They aren't made of the materials of our world and they will just regenerate even if you find a way to destroy their borrowed forms in our world. And long answer? Yes, you can. You can even kill them as I managed to kill one myself. But you can only kill them in their own world- our nightmares. In case you are in a more emergency situation, my charms and my headgear- namely Mensis's cage, if you could find them, can offer you some protection against their corrupting presence. But they can protect your mind to some extent, but the closer you are to those... Great Ones and their ghastly servants, the less protective my charms become. So remember well, don't tread recklessly. Pray to mother Kos that your nerve is strong enough if you run into one of them. If you choose to read this book because ghosts and spirits are haunting you and you are looking for a solution, I say you have not come to right place, my friend. Those bastards- Great Ones as the madmen like to refer to, and their lesser kins can control spirits. You should spray some salt at the doorsteps as salt is a source of electrolytes and can mess up those ghost's ectoplasm. You are not mad. Those hateful sprites are as real as you and me, and they manipulate people around you. They make those closest to you unable to see and hear them thus making them unable to believe you. Those ghosts do that to isolate you and to further drive you insane. Don't bother calling priests. I found that Holy Bibles and praying don't work on them. They are not ghosts in folklore they are electro afterimage of our consciousness that still linger on this world. Although our science can yet to track the human soul, one managed to record 21 grams of data that is lost once the soul leaves the body. Faraday cage can also protect you from those ghosts and cold iron can mess up their electro make up. Do you ever wonder why Victorian cemetery have iron spike fence? They were intended to contain the ghosts. Find an iron sword, better if it was made from meteorites, salt your house entrance and sleep with the light on. If you were haunted, that's all my advice for you. There's an item called Logarius's Wheel which can eternally entrap spirits, but the item itself is cursed so I would not recommend you wield it. I truly hope you are not in that dire situation and still have time to read the rest of the book. If you are being pursued, please consider burning this book. Don't let the Great Ones' servants have their hand on this book. If you really, really want to get rid of those tentacled bastards and their servants for the sake of this world, then read my story throughout and carefully. Up to now, I have spent most of my life and fortune to research into this field, ever since that horror encounter changed me. I'm James Von Mauve, grandson of Count Frederick IV Albert Von Mauve of Nottingham. Well, I bring up this person because he was the source of my every misfortune. I but cannot blame him, though. Little was known about my grandfather rather than he was said to be one of a very few returners from Yharnam and a benevolent ruler of his land. He started some strange traditions in my family, which I used to think as superstitious in an age of science. He would spend days praying to the strange deities and old gods and perform disgusting blood offerings to them. On the other days, he would either emerged himself in rows of books and unknown, horrible research or went here and there to collect more odd trinkets. Later on, I knew that he was right and these traditions should be kept for the sake of our safety. When he was at his sixty, my grandfather started to avoid other family members and would only take his meal from a window, and ever since then I never saw him. Only my dad was able to see him. He died at his sixty-five and was cremated in a hurry. Not let's begin my own story. My story began in 1945. I was in my early 20s and became a medic of 6th division in the Pacific front. We landed on Okinawa on April 1 and fought the 82-day battle with the Japs. Many good men died. I was lucky to be alive... or so I thought. And you already know how the war ended. We nuked 'em. Finally, the dwarf samurais realized their katana and kamikaze planes were nothing compared to the atomic bombs. Peace. We could finally go home now. The thoughts of coming back to our motherland made me cry like a big baby and dimmed the maddening fate lied ahead. The nuclear bombs were both our saviour and a terrifying reminder of how horrible our technology has become. As we human advances in technology, our ego grows and we start to think of ourselves as the centre of the universe. But we were dead wrong. Several months later, news of horrendous sea creatures appeared around the coast of Philippine and China. We thought that was the mutation of sea lives because of the nuclear fallout. But many years later, when I collected many samples myself, I realize they were not of our tangible world. Back then I was young and adventurous. Tales of monsters and forgotten cults always held a great interest in me. From my travel to the Eastern coast of Philippine, I brought home the shell of a heavily mutated sea anemone. Its flowery shape is strangely pleasing in rotational symmetry. I brought it back to my family estate, with the thought of adding it to my grand father's collection of strange mollusc shells. My father, once saw the shell, was so shocked that he fell out of his rocking chair as if he was hit by a stroke. I ran to him immediately and called an ambulance but my father insisted on being fine. He said something about this day would come and show me an old, oversized iron locket. The locket design and decorations suggested dated back to the pre-industrialized era. It was made with fine craftsmanship. The keyhole, however, was its most irregular design. It wasn't a real keyhole but rather a flower-shape hole with a message above: " when the phantasms resurface, bring one shell to open this chest. Only in here you can find the weapon to truly end the nightmare". Even more strange, the shell I brought back fit into this odd keyhole and out of curiosity. So it might be the "phantasm" the message mentioned of. The seashell fitted in. In the locket, there was a small, decorated trunk. When I managed to bring the whole trunk inside and open it, I was a bit unhappy as there were no treasure in the trunk but some worn, tattered books, a strange, saw-like weapon, a letter and a vial of blood. The books were all diaries of my grandfather and some countess Luna who lived sometime 20 years before my grandfather. The letter read: " Although my body lies here, my mind is eternally trapped in the nightmare. For the sin of my hand, and the sin of our forefathers. But that matters bit now. What matters is that the sea- the bulwark against the eldritch horror has been breached. Enter the dream and slay the source of the nightmare. The fact that you could read this letter proves that you are insightful enough to enter the dream. Inject my blood into your vein and bring along whatever weapon you can. Then seek Pale blood to transcend the hunt. Good luck. - Frederick VI. " It was intriguing and rather quizzical. I put it aside and continued examining the rest. The diaries of countess Luna were torn and worn beyond repair and completely unreadable. That was a pitty back then I could not extract any valuable information from the one who has transcended humanity. But the diary of my grandfather was kept in a better condition and readable. I spent the next two day to read his diary. He kept a daily journal from his fifteen to his thirties, which latest journals evolved into some uncanny journey into the cursed city of Yharnam, which was plagued by the curse of blood and beast. He wrote about how he injected some strange blood and joined the nightly hunt. How he came to a hub world called Hunter's Dream and his companions - the Innkeeper Albertus and old hunter Gascoigne. At the time I read his story, I regarded it as a tall story of impossible feats and horrors to scare off children. But later on, I knew that he was telling the truth. His story ended abruptly after he witnessed Gascoigne fell from the Great Bridge and it was rather disappointing because I wanted to know how his story ended. Has something happened to Gascoigne that was so terrible for my grandfather to write down the rest of his story? The saw-like weapon was rusty and covered in dry blood. It was dented and heavy. I even doubt it was the "true weapon to end the nightmare" the message referred to. I paid it no attention once I start to examine the vial of blood. As a medic, the blood of my grandfather immediately captured my attention. Why did he mention injecting his blood? That wasn't safe at all. And was this his blood or something else? Blood can't be stored for long. Something blood had taken great interest in me, and conjure up in me an irresistible curiosity. So, I take it to a private lab owned by my friend. What I found out was rather shocking. The DNA was no doubt, belong to my grandfather. It was rather amusing, indeed, because, after decades, this blood still looked fresh as if it was just bleed out from his wound. And the very end of his Chromosome were some strange genes. It was so crazy for me that I had to keep it a secret from my friend, the owner of the lab. A few days later, I found out those were genes of a dire wolf. You might call me crazy but, it was indeed from a wolf. So, technically speaking, my grandfather was a werewolf. I recalled his story of the deranged Yharnamites townfolks who were gradually transforming into werewolves- ironically the creatures they hunt. And even worse, I thought of his last years, when he locked himself in his room. Category:Blog posts